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MONTEREY ZEPHYRS 

BY 
MARIA ANTONIA 




Class 

Book__ 
Copyright N?. 



CDPlfRIGHT DEPOSm 




Near the ocean's foani and !ia::es. 



MONTEREY ZEPHYRS 



BY 

MARIA ANTONIA 



ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR 



PRIVATELY PRINTED EDITIOI 

A. M. ROBERTSON 

SAN FRANCISCO 

1912 



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COPYRIGHT 1912 

BY 

MARIA ANTONIA FIELD 



CCLA328447 



To 

My Dear Father and Mother 

This Book is 

Most Lovingly Dedicated 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Invocation to Poetry 7 

A Thought 8 

Childhood 10 

Eastertide 12 

The Angelus 14 

Lines to My Mother on Her Birthday .... 16 

To Friendship 18 

San Carlos Mission 20 

To Monterey 22 

October 24 

To the Flowers 26 

Hymn of Love 28-31 



INVOCATION TO POETRY. 

Sacred Lyre, sublimest, noblest music ever 
heard, 
On thy immortal strings has e'er been 
played, 
Thrilling the hearts of men, like song of 
Eden's bird. 
Sweetest, grandest gift that God has made. 
To creatures' intellect. Let thy triumphant 
strain 
To elevate us unto God ne'er be in vain. 




We often scan the lives of others, without giving a 
thought to the rhythm of our own. 



[7] 



A THOUGHT. 

Why do the sweetest hours 

Oft bring the keenest pain? 
Why do the fairest flowers 

Oft grow 'mid sharpest thorns? 
Why do the purest pleasures 

Oft pay the price of tears? 
'Tis thus with all earth's treasures 

As transient as the clouds ; 
Just as e'en hearts the noblest 

Oft bear the deepest wounds, 
And as some souls the gentlest 

Oft meet with stern rebuffs, 
As many a silent feeling 

Oft hides its depth of woe; 
But as the sunlight stealing 

E'en to the loneliest nook, 
So all God's Love embraces 

All healed is turned to joy. 
The secret tears, the traces 

Of woes and wrongs dispelled. 



[8] 




Never let a harsh or cutting word cross thy lips in 
thy intercourse with thy fellow-men, particularly with 
the aged, sick or unfortunate ; thou dost not know what 
burning tears and inmost feelings of deepest pain thou 
mayst occasion, hut which may he gently and silently 
suffered with a dignified Christian patience and smiling 
face. 



[9] 



CHILDHOOD. 

Carefree thrills of exultation, 
Innocence that fear beguiles, 

Childish voices sweet as music, 
Chasing sorrow, bringing smiles. 

Games and laughter, youthful fancies 
Oft with logic of the wise. 

Just as if a ray were given 
Now and then from Paradise. 

Happy children, cherished blessings 

Of the favored fireside. 
Making the warm glow more ruddy. 

Thou of homes art noblest pride ! 



[10] 




A fimn or woman who does not love children is 
unnatural. The noblest men and women have been the 
most ardent child-lovers. And it could not he other- 
wise, for children are the choicest flowers of God's 
garden, and many a cheerless and hardened soul has felt 
the uplifting influence of their sweet fragrance. 



[II] 



EASTERTIDE. 

He Is risen from the grave, 
He who life creation gave, 
Angels radiant in their light. 
Clad in garments snowy white, 

Bring the message glad to earth, 
All unite in peace and mirth. 
On this joyous Easter morn, 
Happy day of Heaven born. 

Mary with her spikenard sweet. 
Comes at dawn with homage meet, 
*'He is risen. He's not here!" 
Comes the angel's answer clear. 

With the springtide flow'rets frail, 
Eastertide thy dawn we hail. 
Lilies shed their perfume 'round, 
Nature's Psalms of joy resound. 

Earth once more Is bright and fair. 
Vested rich in raiment rare; 
Let us then away with strife, 
Keep our hearts with gladness rife. 



[12] 




The heart that knows no love is more desolate than 
the dreariest desert. 



[13] 



THE ANGELUS. 

Ave Maria with the dawn of day, 
Ave Maria with the noontide sun, 

Ave Maria when the last soft ray 

Of fading twiKght steals through hill and 
vale. 

Ave Maria tired hearts breathe still, 

In gentle slumber 'till the day star shines, 

Ave Maria dearest words that fill. 

The exiled soul with hope and peace and 
love. 



[14] 




Honor to whom honor is due. Lofty ideals are ever 
to he encouraged, hut what greater ideal than She, 
God's Immaculate Virgin Mother, the Woman of Genesis 
whom the poet loves to call "our tainted nature's soli- 
tary boast." 



15] 



LINES TO MY MOTHER ON HER 
BIRTHDAY. 

Birthday greetings, loveliest, sweetest, 
Bring we on thy natal day, 

Of all times to us the meetest 
To express our love and pay 

Heartfelt homage to our mother. 
Whose e'er watchful, loving care, 

More than that of any other 

We have felt, and In sweet prayer 

Waft we heavenward our petitions; 

Incense-like may they ascend; 
May they speak of our affections, 

As with wishes fond they blend. 

May God's graces fall In showers, 
Copious on thy soul today, 

Graces blooming into flowers. 
Flowers that will never die. 

Earthly wishes have an ending. 
Glowing but In transient flight, 

But celestial ones ascending. 
These will last eternally. 



[i6] 




HOME IS WHERE MOTHER IS. 

Parental love is the strongest, purest, one of the last 
golden links to which even the most wretched will cling, 
the redeeming quality of many an otherwise hopeless 
case; and there is a great deal of truth in the theory 
that a man seldom goes wrong as long as he has a good 
mother to reverence or the memory of one to honor. 



[17] 



TO FRIENDSHIP. 

Sweet Is the pure gift of friendship most true, 
Loyal and lofty which naught can undo; 
Talk not of treasures which crumble away, 
Just like a dream at the morning's first ray. 
Give me the wealth of affection's warm glow. 
Gentle, unselfish and calm In Its flow. 



[i8] 




Never allow an unjust or unkind criticism about a 
principle which thou knowest to be correct or about a 
faithful friend to be passed in thy presence. Stand 
loyal and unpurchaseable by all thou knowest to be right, 
even though thou shouldst suffer for thy uncompromis- 
ing attitude. The noble, the excellent and the true must 
always have their share of rebuffs, but solid virtue will 
come forth unconquered from the crucible of trial, and 
like the beautiful spring -flowers which sleep through 
the blizzards of winter, so sterling worth triumphant 
will appear crowned with the added glory of victory 
over wrong. 



[19] 



SAN CARLOS MISSION. 

Near the ocean's foam and hazes, 
In a golden mantled vale, 

Which seems richer in the phases 
Of the bright November moon, 

Shrined in stately isolation 

Save to-day,* when its glad bells 

Call the town in adoration 
In these sacred walls to pray. 

Stands the Queen of all the missions, 
Venerable as years go by. 

While a thousand glowing visions 
Cluster 'round its ruined walls. 

Beautiful in quiet glory. 
In the history of its past, 

Tells its never-ending story, 

This grand monument of Faith ! 

And each stone is silent telling 
Padre Serra's spotless fame. 

In sweet strains the bells are singing 
Praises high of Spain's brave son. 



*Feast of St. Charles, November 4th. 
[20] 




Always respect zvhat is hallozved and time-honored ; 
and our California missions are most venerable, synony- 
mous as they are with heroic self-sacrifice, wonderful 
generosity and noble virtue. With a truly royal heritage 
has our fair State been favored. 



[21] 



TO MONTEREY. 

O, the myriad thoughts that linger 
Round the time-worn walls now gray, 

Of this dear historic city, 

Rich in memories of its day. 

When the sainted Spanish Padres 
Roused the land to higher thought, 

And around these flowered valleys 
Priceless lessons once they taught. 

This the land of fond tradition, 
Of the splendid times of yore. 

Artists' garden, poets' fancy. 
With its legendary lore. 



[22] 




Veneration for home and family tradition should 
ever be kept sacred; it has saved many a man from 
going astray and kept out of many homes common and 
unworthy influences. 



[2Z] 



OCTOBER. 

O days with golden sunshine crowned, 
O harvest month of nut-brown shade; 

The thrushes warble lays around 

Each woodland dale and rustic glade. 

The morns are crisp, the wild flowers gleam 
In dew-kissed bowers, the shepherds lead 

Their flocks to pasture by the stream, 
As blithesome to their work they speed. 

O month of glorious vesper hours, 

O splendor of departing day. 
The mountain peaks, like castle towers, 

Where lingering sunbeams love to stray. 

Then softly dies the twilight gray, 
The moon is rising o'er the hills. 

And night now holds her queenly sway; 
The stars are twinkling in the rills. 

And safe within a window pane 

A senorita may be seen; 
She listens to a sweet refrain — 

A troubadour is there, I ween. 

O month of romance and of song. 

Of moonlight nights and sunny bowers; 

It seems that to this time belong 

Such nature's charms, such happy hours. 

[24] 




To me the pastoral life is the purest and happiest in 
its beautiful simplicity. 



[25] 



TO THE FLOWERS. 

O the variegated splendors 

Of each bud, each blade of grass, 

Radiant rose or spotless lily, 
Or the wildwood beauty class. 

Flowers, emblems of great virtues, 
Every bloom a breath of prayer, 

Crowning each succeeding season 
With a heritage most fair. 

Blossoms blooming in the hours 
Of the queenly tranquil night, 

Or beneath the sunshine basking, 
Nurtured in its golden light 

Thou performest thy blessed mission 
When God's altar, bride or bier 

In thy beauty thou adornest, 
And thy charms oft wipe a tear. 

Fragrant diadems that glisten 
In the morning's roseate hue, 

Fair array of lovely graces, 
Sweetest on our earth to view. 




Art, music, -flowers and good books should be in 
every home. The refining influence of the arts crowned 
with religion is more far-reaclung than imagined. If 
greater love for the heavenly and the beautiful were 
fostered in this prosaic, zvork-a-day world of ours, 
there would be less unhappy homes, less abrupt, ungentle 
natures and less tears shed. You need not be rich to 
possess these luxuries; and many of the most refined 
and exquisite characters the world has known have been 
owned by persons of limited and scanty means. 



[27] 



HYMN OF LOVE. 

O ! I know I cannot fathom 

All Thy wond'rous might and love, 
O ! I know I cannot praise Thee 

As do blessed souls above ; 

But I know I am Thy creature 
And though humble be my way, 

E'en though vision may be darkened, 
Still I raise my meed each day. 

When I kneel at altar table 
And receive Thyself indeed, 

! the rapture and the sweetness ! 
There in very truth I feed 

On my wond'rous Hidden Love. 

In the gifts that crown our Lady 
In Her motherhood divine, 

Sinless birth and virgin graces 
In this taintless Home of Thine, 

Humbly do I bless Thee God. 

In Thy Saints' heroic virtues 

And their thrones in bliss above, 

In Thy myriad shining angels 
Who adore in endless love, 

1 revere Thee Lord Divine. 

[28] 



In the hearts of those I treasure, 
In their gifts so dear to me, 

If they are so sweet and lovely, 
'TIs Thy Image which I see. 

And I love Thy Beauty Lord. 

When I hear of aught most noble. 
Lofty purpose, holy deed, 

Something great and soul-inspiring, 
All a spark of Thee indeed; 

I adore Thy Goodness Lord. 

In the Innocence of children. 
When I see their loving trust, 

When I marvel at the beauty 
Of the graces of the just, 

O Thy Grandeur there I see. 

In the hour of thrilling gladness. 
When all seems with joy aglow, 

And again when danger threatens, 
Or I taste the cup of woe. 

Still Thy Guarding Arm I feel. 

Now a sadness fills my bosom. 
When I think of crime and sin. 

Ponder on the v/asted graces, 

O ! to know what might have been, 

But Thy Loving Mercy waits ! 

[ 29 ] 



In the great expanse of waters 
And the ocean's boundless store, 

In the grains of sand that glisten 
In each wave-kissed, sunlit shore 

O I see Thy Power Lord. 

And in every flower that opens 

Its rare beauty in the sun 
And doth shed its perfumed essence 

When great Phcrbus' course is run, 
Lord, I glorify Thy Name. 

In earth's sweetest melodies, 

Music's strain that cheers the heart, 
Song of bird in summer hours. 

Masterpiece of mind or art. 
There Thy Harmony I see. 

All of nature's varied splendors. 
Gentle moon and silver star. 

Glorious sun in azure heavens 
Tell Thy wonders near and far, 

Thou art grand, Blessed Trinity. 

Thus all that creation offers, 

Angel, man and beast and flower. 

Sings to Thee one grand Te Deum 
Day and night, nay, hour by hour, 

O Great, Undivided God. 

[30] 



This a lowly meditation 

Of Thy Might, Oh Lord Divine, 
Every fibre of my being 

I submit to Thee as Thine, 
E'er to love Thee, Triune God. 



r^i 




Many persons have a false opinion of charity and 
gentleness, and think they forbid the denouncing and 
rebuking of an evil; whereas they bear no more rela- 
tion to such incompatible injustice than self-respect to 
foolish pride, or wisdom to self-sufficiency. 



[32] 



NOV 18 1912 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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